


player one has been disconnected

by ohvictor



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 00:29:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21329242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohvictor/pseuds/ohvictor
Summary: Itaru has a little too much to drink at MANKAI karaoke night.
Relationships: Chigasaki Itaru & Utsuki Chikage, Chigasaki Itaru/Utsuki Chikage
Comments: 5
Kudos: 177





	player one has been disconnected

**Author's Note:**

> o/ this fic...  
\- takes place after part 2 of the main story (i.e., chikage is there) but i don't think it has any particular spoilers beyond that  
\- contains alcohol/drinking throughout  
\- can be read as shippy (chikaita) or gen, since there's no overt romance  
\- is not capitalized
> 
> thank you to goomba server for helping me title this and also being my everything

itaru will be the first to admit that he’s had too much to drink. if he wanted to shirk responsibility for his actions — wait, didn’t he just say he’ll be the first to admit... whatever. if he wanted to avoid responsibility, the truth is that senpai kept refilling his cup, and. maybe itaru should have kept a closer eye on it, but citron was manning the karaoke machine, and somehow convinced itaru to join in challenging tsumugi and tasuku to a duet-off, and then kazunari and omi, and, and. and every time itaru reached for his cup, it was full. 

now he’s glued to senpai’s side, although he can’t remember getting here, and senpai is warm. like a kitten you’ve convinced to sit on your lap that suddenly begins to radiate heat, the kind that sinks into your bones. senpai’s head turns as he answers some question kazunari’s asking, and itaru looks up and the motion sloshes his head around. hm... not so good. 

he reaches for senpai, forgetting he’s already pressed against senpai’s side, and what his groping fingers latch onto is senpai’s thigh. he hears, through the fog of his brain, senpai make a noise, like he’s surprised. itaru grips senpai’s leg tighter, holding on. 

“chigasaki,” senpai says, his tone sharp. he pries itaru’s fingers from his thigh. to the others, he says, “i’m going to take chigasaki outside for some air.”

“itaruuu,” citron sings, and his face swims into view, suddenly _very_ close. itaru blinks. “are you not feeling well~?”

itaru doesn’t know. his body feels like it belongs to someone else. he shrugs one shoulder; it doesn’t make him any dizzier. 

then he seems to clip through the wall, or at least, he closes his eyes in the karaoke booth and opens them in the elevator, and then he closes them again because the elevator is moving and his stomach drops unpleasantly, and when he opens his eyes next, senpai’s supporting him through the karaoke building lobby and then through the glass doors (cool; itaru wants to press his face against them) out into the night. 

senpai releases itaru, and itaru staggers immediately. he finds the wall of the karaoke building and leans against it, taking several deep breaths. distantly, he’s aware that senpai is still with him, although he doesn’t know which of his senses registers it. 

“you didn’t...” huh. talking’s hard. “you didn’t—drug me or anything, did you, senpai?” he manages. 

“don’t joke about that,” senpai says, not unkindly. itaru feels a hand on his shoulder, and leans into it. “you just had too much to drink.” itaru hears him huff, that little sound that passes for a laugh when senpai isn’t pleased. “your tolerance is shit.”

“we can’t all be you,” itaru says. huh. the world isn’t spinning any less. he presses his face to the dirty brick wall, praying he’ll get to shower sometime soon. the bricks don’t cool him down at all. 

“well, no, but you wouldn’t want to be.” senpai’s arm is around itaru’s shoulders now, holding him steady. when did itaru’s legs give out? did they give out...? the ground seems closer now. he hears senpai’s voice, distant. “taxi!” it says. the bricks rush to meet itaru’s face. itaru prays for his makeup to stay intact as the world goes black. 

when he comes to again, he’s lying in bed. upon closer examination — opening his eyes, seeing a plushie inches from his face — he discovers it’s his own bed. 

is he in his bed in his dirty street clothes, his dirty brick wall face? he scrambles to sit up, and his head throbs a reproach that presses him back into the pillow, gasping for breath. his throat is painfully dry, and there’s a nasty taste in his mouth, like old alcohol. 

he tries again much slower, turns his head, and discovers a plastic baggie with three pills, and a water bottle. itaru extracts one arm (slowly, that’s the key) from under the blankets and tries to dry swallow the pills, forgetting how dry his mouth is, which ends in him gagging and fumbling with the water bottle to take a drink before he gets sick for real. he succeeds — thanks, gamer reflexes — and collapses back against the sheets, spent. 

the door of the bedroom opens, and itaru turns his head to see a flash of red-pink hair that disappears for a moment and then appears again at the top of the ladder to itaru’s bed. 

“itaru-san!” sakuya’s whispering, which is a blessing. “you’re awake?”

“that’s one,” itaru says, struggles to swallow, and continues, “one way to put it. what time is it?”

sakuya hums and fishes his phone out of his pocket to check. “almost three!”

“three in the morning?” itaru jolts. “augh— my rank...”

“chikage-san said you’d say that,” sakuya laughs. “he said to tell you...” sakuya slips into an _uncanny_ senpai voice. “‘i‘ve confiscated your phone for tonight, so don’t even try.’” sakuya beams. “typical, right? ah, he’s out in the yard on his computer.”

“i’ll kill him,” itaru mumbles. big words from someone who _definitely_ can’t get out of bed without help right now. “tell him to come fight me in person.”

“no,” sakuya says simply. he reaches his hand out and pets itaru’s hair, stroking his bangs back from his sweaty forehead. itaru’s eyes flutter closed, helpless. “he sent me to check if you were awake, and help you to the bathroom if needed. he got you home from karaoke, you know! he carried you all the way in here from the car.”

itaru’s memories of the night are fuzzy, but this story rings true. if itaru really did get too drunk at karaoke and had to be carried home, he probably owes a lot of people apologies for whatever his drunk self might have done. unfortunately for him, it seems like senpai is the top of the list. “...cool.”

he checks his stats and finds he could, in fact, go to the bathroom. “sakuya,” he says, “i hate to make you do this...”

“it’s no problem! we’re family, right?” sakuya’s eyes shine at the prospect. itaru thinks privately that he’s never had to escort any member of his own immediate family to the bathroom, and he’s never thought to be grateful for that until this moment. 

after a trip to the bathroom, featuring sakuya, that itaru will do his best to forget starting _now_, he drags himself down the hall and out into the courtyard, water bottle in hand. as promised, there’s senpai, sitting at the little table and typing away on his laptop. itaru pulls at the hem of his shirt, wishing he’d changed into something else. now that he’s up and around, maybe he can shower and put on clean pajamas. 

senpai looks up at the sound of itaru’s footsteps. his expression is hard to read, and not just in the three am darkness, but he does take his hands off the keys and turn his body towards itaru as he throws himself into the empty chair at senpai’s table. 

“you didn’t die,” senpai says. 

“what’s with that,” itaru grumbles. his mouth still tastes gross; the water isn’t helping. “sakuya told me you got me all the way home.”

“yes. i charged the taxi ride to your card.”

“asshole.” whatever gratitude itaru felt towards this guy is rapidly dissipating. “where’s my phone.”

“you should take it easy,” senpai says. itaru resents this, but senpai _has_ watched him wreck his body over games more times than itaru cares to remember. (he’s _allowed_ to wreck his body over games. it’s the _one_ thing he deserves.) “you blacked out tonight, and your body is still processing the effects of the alcohol. you should be drinking more water than that. i trust you took the pain medication i left you.”

itaru can’t help rolling his eyes. it makes his head twinge. “yes, dad. i’ll turn my phone brightness down, so don’t worry.”

“i’m not worried.” 

senpai ignores itaru’s skeptical look, and fishes in his pocket (of course he was keeping itaru’s phone _on his person_, the asshole). he produces itaru’s phone and holds it out to him, and itaru grabs it before senpai can change his mind. 

“get some sleep,” senpai warns, but itaru’s already leaving, his fingers tapping away at his phone. 

he’s nestled into bed by the time he’s signed into war of warriors, and he clears his LP before anything else, tapping with practiced speed. only when he’s used up the last of his LP does he check the rankings, hoping he’s made up a little of the damage, but instead he finds he’s exactly where he was when he last logged in hours ago at karaoke. 

huh. 

stretching out on his sheets, he drafts a LIME message to banri asking if ranking has been slow this event, and then scraps it, chastising himself for his naïveté. it’s a big event with tickets for a step-up gacha among the rank prizes, so there’s no way the servers aren’t being slammed with players even late at night. as itaru stares at his phone, another explanation comes to mind, and he swipes out of the message log with banri and messages senpai instead. 

> **itaru**: did you play my game?
> 
> **itaru**: you did, right? or you used some cheat ability or something to keep my rank up

senpai doesn’t answer immediately. itaru tabs back to war of warriors with a frustrated sigh, and when his phone buzzes a minute later with senpai’s response, he’s nearly forgotten his accusation. 

> **chikage**: of course not. i don’t care about your mobile games. go to sleep. 

somehow, itaru thinks senpai is lying. of course, _lying_ and _senpai_ go together like... like two things that go together. god, itaru’s tired. 

he sets his phone down next to his pillow and stares dully at the ceiling. tomorrow’s saturday, so he doesn’t have to work. he can grind and keep his rank up all day, and maybe pester senpai for a confession a little more. 

somehow, that prospect feels just as bright to him as ranking. 

how gross.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](http://twitter.com/futarinoshoutai%22)!!


End file.
